Don't Count
by Fizz the Great
Summary: Molly can see things other people can't see.
1. Chapter 1

March 31st, 1985 (age 6)

Gray clouds hung above, pushing down against the earth, threatening to crush everyone below. The rain was falling quiet torrentially, drops hitting the floor like soundless music notes. You can barely see anything within eight yards, moreover than a flimsy tree still standing across the road. Plitter, platter, plitter, platter, the rain drops said.

Molly Hooper resided near the house, playing on top of the steps, protected by the wooden roof above. Barbie needs a yellow dress today, to stand out off the grayness around her, Molly thought. Plus, yellow was her favorite color.

There was a sudden clatter. The sound of solid rock falling upon plastic. Molly looked up. She knew it must be a stone falling from the rook and onto the lid of the trash can but she looked up anyway. The rain was getting repetitive and she longed to hear another sound. Instead, her eyes were directed to another object. A figure. Walking in the rain.

It's pouring outside. There is no way anybody would be out there at this time of the day, additionally even without an umbrella! Even six-year old Molly knew that.

"Hey! Where are you going?"

No answer. It was as if the man didn't even hear her.

"Hey! Can you hear me?"

The figure stopped. He turned around. Dark curls jingled slightly as he twisted his head, blue-gray eyes boring into hers.

"Uh… hello!" Molly couldn't think of anything else to say. "Um, are you new here? Where are you going?"

The man blinked at her, black hoodie covering most of his head leaving on his face and a few locks of hair peeking out.

"You can… see me?" The man said it as if it was foreign on his tongue.

Molly was puzzled by this. "Um… yeah?"

A most peculiar expression crossed the man's face as he walked towards her, hands in jeans pocket, sleeves rolled up revealing stark white skin.

"That is quiet, different," he said, searching for the right word. He squatted down so that he was just about the same height as Molly.

"What's your name?"

"Molly," she replied, trying to put as much confidence in front of the stranger.

"That's… a nice name," the man commented. "Where are you parents?"

"They're away for a while, my grandma is inside the house,"

"Sleeping, I presume?"

The girl's eyes widen. "How do you know?"

A smile reached to the man's electric blue eyes. "I simply, observe,"

Molly laughed at this. "Then what are you doing here?"

"I was taking a walk,"

"Who takes walks in the rain?"

"Lots of people,"

"But you're the only one,"

The man stopped. He stared at her for a solid second, eyes scanning her, calculating and storing away the mysterious girl's facts. Molly held her breath.

"You were never supposed to see me," he said softly.

"And why is that?" She asked back, curiosity getting the better of her.

The man before her seem to suddenly age ten years, lines etching into his skin, eyes no longer holding the playful light that was once there. It looked like he was crying, rain sliding down his face like liquid diamonds.

"You don't count," he said.

Then, without another word, he stood up and left.


	2. Chapter 2

August 28th, 1985 (age 7)

The next time she saw him again, was five months later. The gray storms of England has long passed, and now summer came, shining its warmth onto the soft ground, creating life. Instead of a wet atmosphere, today was sunny, birds chirping and flowers blooming in the fields around her swing.

Molly didn't tell anyone about her encounter with this strange man. Not even her parents, when they got home from their vacation. She didn't tell them about the short conversation in the rain. The way how the man talked. His pale skin contrasting against the dark fabric. His sad sad face, staring at her through the rain, like he was crying.

 _You don't count_ , she recall the man saying that day. She didn't understand what he meant. She hoped he would come back someday, so she can ask him about it.

And then suddenly when she looked up she saw him. Leaning against the bark of a tree, staring off into really nowhere. He was still dressed in his black hoodie, hands buried his jeans pocket, adapting him a relaxed position.

"Hey, you're back," Molly swung herself forward, legs dangling underneath her.

The mysterious man looked up from where he was leaning, eyes this time in more green than gray, matching with the plants and trees around him. Dark curls bounced on his head, making it look like a bird nest. Molly nearly giggled at this.

"What's your name?" Molly asked, trying to focus on the serious facts.

The stranger looked surprised at her question, as if nobody ever asked for his name before.

"Name?" He repeated, confused at the word. His voice was still exactly the same as Molly remembered it. The deep baritone voice, perfectly matching his personality.

"Yeah, your name. You know, the name that your parents give you," she kept on swinging, the wooden structure creaking ever so slightly at each up and down.

"I don't… have a name," he said, embarrassed at his statement.

The creaking stopped. Molly stared at him. "Did your parents never give you one?"

The man hesitated. He looked about twenty years old, with high cheekbones, skin shining white under the sunlight. "Then… why don't you give me one?" He prompted.

Molly smiled. "Okay then! Let me think for a while…" she scrunched up her face, thinking hard.

"I'll call you William," she said happily, "my father's name is William too,"

"Okay," William said.

That was the day he got his first name.


	3. Chapter 3

June 5th, 1987 (age 9)

Two years have passed since giving the man a name. She is nine years old now, which means she's starting 5th grade. In just a few months she's going to be in middle school.

"How's your day today?" She ran to the swings and hopped on.

"Fine," William said. He never says anything but fine.

She was quiet good friends with him now. They always meet at the same place, near the swings and the big tree, casting it great branches over the grass. Every single morning when she ran out of the house to play at the swings, William was there, leaning against the dark oak tree, wearing his same black hoodie and dark jeans.

"Why do you always say fine?" Molly asked, still swinging.

"What else should I say then?"

"Well, you say what normal people say, like; oh! Today for breakfast I had these really good pancakes made by my mother… or… I rode my bike around the house today! You know just the basics,"

William laughed at this.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh nothing," he waved at the little girl to dismiss the idea.

"So how come you don't say stuff like that?" Curiosity still remained in the her after all those years.

William walked over to her and knelt down so that they were at eye level. Molly shrank back as a sudden feeling of nostalgia washed over her.

"Look, you have to stop imagining me," he said.

Molly only giggled at this. "Why?" She asked.

"Because I'm not real,"

"Of course you're real,"

The pain that flashed across his face was inevitable. An unknown breath seemed to be held as the man and the girl had a silent staring contest. Suddenly the man broke away. And before Molly knew what was going on, he had already disappeared into the woods.

 **Homework sucks.**


	4. Chapter 4

August 22nd, 1987 (age 9)

"Hello,"

"Hmm,"

"I haven't seen you in a long time already,"

No answer.

"It's been almost two months already, I could count you know, I'm in fifth grade already,"

Silence.

And then, "I know, I can count too,"

Molly grinned. "Tomorrow my mom is taking me to the park, you could come with us if you want,"

William grimaced at this. "I'm pretty sure your mother wouldn't allow that," he said.

"Why not?"

"You, talking to strangers, it's dangerous. In fact, you shouldn't even be talking to me right now."

"But you seem nice,"

William sighed. "Well, some people aren't."

"You're not some people,"

"I'm not anybody,"

Molly made a face. "Well, I don't think that's very true either."

William turned to face her, eyes scanning her as if storing every single detail into his mind. "Very well," he said. "However that's only what you believe."

 **By the way, exams are almost here. I'm so going to die.**


	5. Chapter 5

December 27th, 1988 (age 10)

"It's Christmas! It's Christmas! It's Christmas!" Molly ran to the swings, arms stretched out on both sides as if she was asking for a hug.

William, on the other hand, sulked out of the shadows, hands stuffed in hoodie pockets with a grim expression set on his face.

Molly jumped on the swings and started swinging before she realized what was wrong.

"What's with the sad face?"

"Hm?" William looked up at her, green-blue eyes glowing against the grayness around him.

"It's Christmas, why aren't you happy?"

He didn't reply.

"Are you cold? It's freezing out here, my mum said it's going to snow tomorrow,"

"I'm not cold."

"Well, you don't look very happy do you?" Molly inquired. William shifted uncomfortably. "Here, I'll bring you some of the Christmas cookies mummy made last night, they're really good,"

"No, I'm fine," William stopped her before she can get off her swing.

"Then what do you need?"

"Nothing,"

"Are you sure?"

William looked up then away, eyes traveling to distance places. Molly craned her neck to see what he was looking at but she saw nothing. Confused, she glanced back at the man, hands in stuffed in hoodie pockets, pale neck contrasting against the dark fabric. And for just a split instance, Molly thought she could see through him.

She blinked vigorously. William was still there. And then…

A snowflake. Just a small sliver of ice, falling down from the gray skies and onto her nose. Just a flake of ice. Then the snow started falling quicker. Big flurries of feathers rained down from the sky, floating down and landing on the gray cement, the plastic swings, wooden poles. They were everywhere, drifting off here and there, filling the emptiness with a sense of hope. A flicker of a new start. Snow. Clean, white, fresh snow, that came from the heavens.

Molly couldn't help but let a yell of joy as she jumped from her swings and ran around in circles, sticking out her tongue to catch the tiny flakes of ice, feeling the cold spikes prick her face. And out of the corner of her eye, she saw William, staring up at the snow, searching for something. But the eminent fact were his eyes, shinning, until she realized what was going on. He was crying. William was crying. Diamond tears rolled down his pale cheeks and dripped onto his hoodie as he continued to stare up at the gray skies, still searching for something, something unknown.

"What are you looking for?"

William's head snapped back at the little girl, eyes showing a spark of fear.

"Nothing,"

"Oh,"

When William glanced back up at the sky, the thing he seemed to be searching was gone. And so he turned and walked back into the forest.

 **Exams are over. Kill me. Don't. Kill me. Because I still have Disney to go to. Even if I failed my Latin exam. Got a 75. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I feel like the Doctor is yelling at me for being so stupid. I need a break. Maybe a visit to the Avengers Tower. Or met Coulson in a coffee shop.**


End file.
